1000 Gifts: 881-980

Hold on.  Did you catch that?  Did you see the title of this post? Do you see that we're under 20 days away from finishing this project?  Today, we are 2.5 weeks away from Cole's graduation.  Though at times, this project has been tedious, and there have been days where, to my great shame, it has been hard to find unique things to be thankful for, I am thankful. I am so thankful for this reminder of these 1000 days and of God's everpresent faithfulness and generosity to us.

**The 45th, 46th, 47th, 48th, and 49th Installments of 1000 Gifts**

881.	Trying new recipes.
882.	The generosity of strangers.
883.	The catharsis of writing.
884.	The way he makes me laugh.
885.	An overflowing laundry basket and a weekend well spent.
886.	Dinner rolls.
887.	Cheese curds.
888.	Hide and Seek with the cutest cousins.
889.	A weekend in Pueblo.
890.	Clorox Bleach.
891.	My father-in-law.
892.	Countdowns and anticipation.
893.	Heavy duty foil.
894.	Pizza stones.
895.	Double ovens.
896.	Cilantro.
897.	Dishwashers that work.
898.	An evening of laughter with family who are friends.
899.	An afternoon of proof-reading.
900.	Tea and Yo-Yo Ma on a cold afternoon.
901.	Sleepovers.
902.	Fresh scones on a Saturday morning.
903.	Raw sugar.
904.	Margeaux Jean.
905.	Flirty emails from my husband in the middle of the day.
906.	Avacados.
907.	Happier Hour.
908.	Brussel sprouts and balsamic reduction.
909.	When the waiter keeps the water glass full.
910.	The word "boulangerie". Thank you, Kelly Anne.
911.	Gorgonzola mashed potatoes.
912.	Earl Grey Tea.
913.	Amazon Prime.
914.	When the logistics work out.
915.	Free couches.
916.	Taco night.
917.	Sermons online.
918.	My guy and his incredible servant's heart.
919.	Patio poured.
920.	Missing those dear to you, knowing the longing exists because of the deep love that is there.
921.	A new yoga mat.
922.	58* in February.
923.	Sunnyside sunsets.
924.	My Dad's wisdom and encouragement.
925.	Hearing Margeaux Jean coo through the phone.
926.	Afternoons with Carrie.
927.	A new job and a God who provides far more than we can ask or imagine.
928.	Praying with my Mother-in-Law.
929.	A fresh trim.
930.	High school drama productions.
931.	Friday night date night.
932.	New nail polish.
933.	Cello music in the morning.
934.	Weekend roadtrip planning.
935.	Garage door openers.
936.	A phone call from Stacie Joy!
937.	A baby shower for Margeaux Jean.
938.	The Moby wrap.
939.	A family wine tasting.
940.	Taco salads with friends.
941.	Progress on the house.
942.	Kombucha.
943.	White cabinets.
944.	Dinner with Kelly Anne.
945.	Singing with my sister.
946.	Pedicures with my mom.
947.	A long voicemail from Uncle Andy.
948.	Knitting progress.
949.	Finally finishing a book.
950.	Skinny Vanilla Lattes.
951.	Good books and gutsy authors.
952.	Boyers coffee and memories of Colorado.
953.	An afternoon with Beth.
954.	Thai with Kendall.
955.	An easy chocolate cake recipe.
956.	A late night watching the Mariners.
957.	A clean bill of health.
958.	VRBOs.
959.	Long Saturday morning talks with my mother-in-law
960.	A busy day at work.
961.	The first 80 degree day in the Valley.
962.	Movie date with my mother-in-law.
963.	A Mariners' win!
964.	Cheap airfare.
965.	When I find my phone charger before the phone dies.
966.	A good blog.
967.	Freshly dusted rooms.
968.	Spring rain.
969.	Pad See Ew.
970.	24 years of Cameron Boboth.
971.	Sliders for dinner.
972.	26 years of Carrie Boboth.
973.	Double strollers.
974.	A productive lunch meeting.
975.	Starting a new project.
976.	Not-so-subtle reminders that I am not in control.
977.	Successful surgeries.
978.	A walk with my nephews.
979.	A weekend with Margeaux and her parents.
980.	Giggling twin nephews.

1000 Gifts: 741-880

                          **The 38th, 39th, 40th, 41st, 42nd, 43rd, and 44th Installments of 1000 Gifts**

741.	28 years of Brian Matthew.
742.	Gorgonzola on my burger.
743.	A long weekend with family.
744.	Double dates.
745.	Haircuts in the kitchen.
746.	Old friends at church.
747.	Dinner with Grandpa.
748.	God's perfect timing.
749.	A nice, long phone call with my mother-in-law.
750.	The wind and the rain: a powerful testament to their Creator.
751.	Mail.
752.	Chips Ahoy Cookies. The soft ones.
753.	Sunday afternoon football.
754.	Vera Water and Power.
755.	My sister's wisdom.
756.	A thought-provoking book.
757.	Christmas Shopping.
758.	The selfless way my husband serves.
759.	A freshly mown lawn.
760.	Basil from the garden.
761.	Flowers, just because.
762.	Smoothies for breakfast.
763.	Coming home to dinner - already made.
764.	Fall - all of it.
765.	"Rusty Pipes."
766.	The farmer's gloves.
767.	An aged ledger scrawled with grandpa's meticulous handwriting.
768.	New seasons.
769.	God's faithful provision, time and again.
770.	Chicken Holy Basil.
771.	Thai food with my mom.
772.	A crisp fall morning.
773.	My dad's wisdom.
774.	Leftovers.
775.	Candy corns & peanuts.
776.	A 70 degree day in October.
777.	A weekend away at the Davenport.
778.	Exploring our city like tourists.
779.	The smell of fresh bread baking.
780.	Christmas shopping done early.
781.	6 more months of car insurance.
782.	A long weekend with our niece and nephews.
783.	Extra burp cloths.
784.	The pumpkin patch.
785.	Pumpkin donuts.
786.	Walls and a subfloor. (!!!!)
787.	Cheese-Its.
788.	An encouraging text from my sister-in-law.
789.	Thiessen. There, Mom, I said it.
790.	Appreciation from the boss.
791.	Frozen pineapple for my smoothie.
792.	Making soap with my sisters.
793.	Portland in the fall.
794.	Discounted gas.
795.	An Amazon box in the mail!!
796.	Risotto.
797.	A mall, all decorated for Christmas.
798.	A long, quiet Saturday morning and time to savor the coffee.
799.	Work family.
800.	Mulled Cider candle.
801.	Repurposed leftovers.
802.	Cider pressing.
803.	Last days, turning in keys.
804.	Fritos.
805.	Ricotta gnocchi.
806.	Girls' day with my mom.
807.	26 years of Cole Boboth.
808.	Leggings.
809.	Time to enjoy a third cup of coffee
810.	Red Starbucks cups and a long coffee date with my sister.
811.	A family dinner.
812.	A warm, clean house.
813.	Christmas lights hung
814.	Grandpa's hugs.
815.	Time at the piano with Kelly.
816.	A long evening conversation with my dad.
817.	Snow tires.
818.	That God forgives, preserves, instructs, teaches, and delivers me.
819.	Hotel points, and a free stay. (Thanks, Dad!)
820.	Audiobooks.
821.	A safe roadtrip.
822.	Harp music.
823.	Raw sugar.
824.	Sunday night football - with a full house.
825.	Excel spreadsheets.
826.	Facetime.
827.	You've Got Mail.
828.	A run with the Rockies in the background.
829.	Colorado family.
830.	Phone calls from home.
831.	A walk in the sunshine with my Love.
832.	White Christmas.
833.	Spending the afternoon in the kitchen.
834.	Cooking with GramGram.
835.	The way the sun hits the snow and it sparkles.
836.	A trip home.
837.	A full night's sleep.
838.	"No way! Me too"
839.	Safety on a slick road.
840.	A warm home.
841.	Grocery shopping early in the morning in an empty store.
842.	Dinner date with my parents.
843.	Girls' lunch date with my mother- and sister-in-law.
844.	Sheri Boboth.
845.	A sister lunch date in The Dalles.
846.	Earrings turned into magnets.
847.	All the Schlects, in one place.
848.	Engagements and new family members.
849.	Mah Daddy.
850.	Chik-fil-A. Oof.
851.	A phone call from my niece.
852.	All of the Boboths, in one place.
853.	Late night talks with my guy.
854.	A full house of people I love.
855.	Sleeping babies.
856.	Homemade tamales and margaritas.
857.	Marrying into such a great, loving family.
858.	Walks with Stacie Joy!
859.	A clean floor.
860.	Good lotion.
861.	A good, deep clean.
862.	A glass of chardonnay, raised in Grandma's honor.
863.	A year of memories, heartache, laughter, and so so much love.
864.	Downtime.
865.	Spring Rolls.
866.	Fresh snow.
867.	Crate & Barrel.
868.	Peanut sauce.
869.	New yarn.
870.	Heating pads.
871.	A weekend at the cabin.
872.	Prayer.
873.	The body of Christ, working together.
874.	Domino's Pizza.
875.	Football Sundays.
876.	Smitten Kitchen.
877.	Siding!
878.	An unexpected lunch with people I love.
879.	A supportive family
880.	An afternoon in the kitchen.

...And a Happy New Year

I went to Grandma's grave today.  Those words are still bitter on my tongue.  Seeing her name carved in the silvery granite like that sent a shiver through my spine, though the sub-zero temperature outside didn't help things either.  The phrase "carved in stone" came to mind, and I was once again struck by the definitive finality of this.  That she's gone.  That she's not here anymore. And she's not coming back.

******

I wrote those few sentences almost a month ago when I was home visiting my parents.  My mom and I had stopped by the cemetery while we were out running errands. It shook me so deeply, but when I tried to string words together in an effort to process it all, that was as far as I got.  

The depth and breadth of my grief has continued to take me by complete surprise.  I had known that I loved her deeply and I had known that she had a profound impact on my life.  What I did not anticipate was the incredibly profound impact she would have on my life in her death.  Grappling with the idea of death, losing someone I love, and the fact that - unless Jesus comes back very soon - I will have to continue to say goodbye to those that I love. This grappling rocked me to my very core.

This holiday season has been extremely difficult - being the first without her.  She is so much a part of my holiday memories, it is as though it didn't feel like the holidays without her there: without her beautiful voice calling to sing me "Happy Birthday," without singing carols with her around her piano, without her welcoming hugs and the lingering scent of her perfume, without that twinkle in her eye....

Today, December 30, she would have been 81.  Today, we will raise a glass of Chardonnay (with two ice cubes in it!) in her honor - remembering the incredible woman that she was and the multitude of ways that she so profoundly impacted my (and so many others') life.  Today, I am thankful.  Thankful for the 25+ years that I knew her, thankful that I see bits of her in me, thankful for the woman who brought so much love and music to our family.

As we enter 2014, the first year without her, I pray that our grief would grow to joy, knowing - with as much assurance as we can have here on this earth - that she is ringing in the New Year with greater joy than she has ever known.

Happy Birthday, Grandma!  We love you and miss you more than you could ever know.